


Resonance

by utsu



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Future, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/utsu/pseuds/utsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two times Haru thinks about kissing Rin and the one time he actually does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resonance

(1)

Nanase Haruka had never been inside of a flower shop before.

He’d never had a need to visit one, never required or wanted flowers for any particular reason. In fact, he wasn’t actually even interested in flowers other than the enticing fragrance of them on the tail end of the breeze or the subtle fall of sakura blossoms that for some inexplicable reason calmed him down and made him smile. Other than that, though, flowers were just another part of the scenery around him that he didn’t pay much attention to—he was much more inclined to focus on the ocean only a few miles away from his apartment, or even the community pool just a block away.

And yet for some reason he still couldn’t put words to, he was now inside of a flower shop for the first time ever, curiously fingering the underside of a delicate petal from some unknown flower bouquet, pretending like he wasn’t watching the register from the corner of his eyes. He was in flip flops, a plain shirt, and blue board shorts with an older pair of jammers on underneath, and a beach bag full of sunscreen, a towel, an extra pair of jammers (just in case), and his phone, slung haphazardly over his right shoulder.

There hadn’t seemed to be anything different about the day when Haru got up in the morning and prepared for his solo trip to the beach. There were several early morning shoppers along the road, but that was nothing new. He had nodded politely to the owners he passed, their names and faces familiar to him since he had to walk by their vendors and stores every day to get to the pool and the beach. The flower shop was the same—a quaint place that he passed every day without much observation. There were wooden flowerpots outside the storefront with bountiful flowers spilling over the sides, bright and colorful now that it was spring. Tiny flowerpots hung from the overhang casting shade over the front windows, swaying lightly in the breeze. The shop looked the same way it always did, cute and quiet and welcoming, with nothing new or interesting to dawdle over.

Except that today there was.

It was early enough that the sun was just barely cresting the mountaintops but the air was already warm and comforting when the breeze pushed past, and yet even still, when Haru walked past the flower shop and cast an automatic, perfunctory glance inside he felt chills race down his spine, seeping through his skin to wrap like a vice around his heart and _squeeze_.

There was a guy standing behind the counter that Haru had never seen before, not once in all of the times that he had passed this flower shop on his daily trip to his favorite water sources, and he was smiling like he had the sun perched behind his teeth. Haru froze in place, not even flinching when his beach bag slung back and hit him in the side, staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed as the guy laughed at something his customer said, throwing his head back and grabbing at his stomach, red eyes bright and gleaming with unshed tears of mirth.

Haru couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt free enough to laugh with his entire body like that, to throw his head back and feel tears build in his eyes at something as simple as another person’s words, regardless of how amusing they were. There was something about that zealous display of freedom that had Haru turning back in his steps, approaching the front door and pushing through it, hearing the light chime of a bell and the resulting call of “Welcome!” from the back of the shop. His heart felt like it did a summersault in his chest, throbbing almost painfully. He brought a hand up to lightly clutch at his chest, frowning as he headed for the first bouquet he laid eyes on, very deliberately not looking back at the employee.

He had no idea what kind of flowers were in the bouquet, only that they were soft and bright and he was a little impressed at how beautifully put together they were; pinks and oranges and reds and simple shades of lilac all perfectly placed for an elegant bunch. Haru bent over to smell one of the red flowers, closing his eyes as he took in the scent and felt the corner of his lips tilt up ever so slightly.

“Dianthus caryophyllus,” someone said over his shoulder, startling him enough that when he straightened back up he almost collided with them, his bag aiming for a new victim as it swung in an arc and found his side again. Whoever it was laughed, and when he turned and saw that it was the new employee smiling at him with eyes bright and curious. Haru swallowed, bringing a hand up to clench at the strap of his beach bag.

“That’s the scientific name for it, but generally everyone calls it a carnation.” The guy said, tilting his head slightly when Haru only dipped his head imperceptibly, suddenly a little shy in the face of someone so self-assured. Haru didn’t have a clue what to say, he knew nothing about flowers and he wasn’t even completely sure why he was in the shop at all, but he couldn’t stop looking up and into those bright eyes, keen and full of life, and wondering how someone could reflect heat and luster like the sun even when they were tucked away inside and cast in the shadows of walls.

“I like it,” Haru finally responded, voice low and sincere if a little unsteady. He watched the employee lift a tan hand to tuck some of his vibrant red hair behind his ear, laughing lightly as he bobbed his head in agreement.

“I like them too.” He said, grinning at Haru’s stoic expression and the subtle way he kept looking up at him from the corner of his eyes. Almost as an afterthought, he held his hand out towards Haru, beaming. “I’m Matsuoka Rin.”

“Nanase Haruka.” Haru replied, carefully taking Rin’s hand and shaking it once, feeling the gentle squeeze the redhead applied before holding on just a moment longer than he really needed to, his lips quirking up in one corner. His grip was firm, yet gentle, and it made Haru’s head spin.

Rin’s uniform consisted of a plain white shirt and jeans under a black apron with red embroidery across the front displaying the shop’s name: _Forget Me Not_ , and it did nothing to hide the fact that he was built. His shoulders were broad and tapered down into a thin waist and long legs, every inch of him firm. His arms were defined in a way that could only be accomplished through someone breaking their own limits for something they loved dearly, a feeling that Haru shared as his mind conjured images of the sun’s reflection on the surface of water and how it glistened like magic regardless of the time. Sun or moon, the water turned any light source into a shining gleam that took Haru’s breath away, a fluid and surging galaxy he could slip his fingers through and taste, could become a part of if he worked hard enough.

Water was the only companion he had ever had that could touch his heart, could seep through the cracks of him and reach his soul, an essence that was hidden away within the deepest part of him, a constant thrum that had never been moved.

Haru was a hider, an introvert; he preferred to keep his emotions to himself and analyze whatever and whomever he could internally. He had never liked to express himself with words or with too many actions; he was all about nonverbal behavior—facial expressions, looks, and gestures. He was okay with that, had accepted it a long time ago when he found that he couldn’t even explain to his long time best friend Tachibana Makoto that he didn’t _want_ to explain why he was the way he was, but that he was sometimes sorry that his stoicism caused others discomfort.

There had never been anyone in the world that was able to see into him and recognize his passions and his ambitions. Not even Makoto, who was very dear to him and had known him his entire life. Even from him, Haru hid. But it was more complicated than that, than simply _hiding_. Sometimes Haru himself didn’t know how to reveal his true nature, even if he had wanted to. It was something that he couldn’t put into words; no matter how many sleepless nights he took trying to arrange them in his mind, trying to push them off the precipice of his tongue.

The only times that Haru had ever felt comfortable letting his emotions show on his face was in the presence of a body of water, and those times he was usually so focused on the water he didn’t even realize that he wasn’t alone. His enthusiasm and his yearning to swim unreservedly in the water was _his_ and his alone. When he could sink into the depths and let his body flow freely through the crystal clear haven, that was when he was most true to himself.

Any other time, though, he was closed-off, a locked cage with a lost key. Most people stopped trying to pry into him after a few days, frustrated and unsure of how to approach his stoicism and lack of responses. Makoto was the longest relationship he’d ever held, a compassionate friend that he listened to and spent time with because he cared about him. But even with their deeply rooted bond, a platonic friendship that had lasted two complete decades without any terrible detriments along the way, Haru was still an enigma Makoto could not decipher or fully understand.

It wasn’t enough. Makoto wasn’t enough. Haru’s barriers were too strong, too well formed from when he was young, and there was no breaking or entering through them. Haru had long since recognized that he’d built around himself an indomitable cage—not in the hopes of protecting himself, no, he was never afraid of others, but simply because of his withdrawn nature—that prohibited others from experiencing his truest passions and desires without changing him completely.

There were still parts of himself that he wanted to change, wanted to work on, but he was content with his personality. He felt comfortable being withdrawn and quiet and only enthusiastic when he was in water. The only issue he was not content with was the matter of his heart, and the constant overwhelming thought that maybe he’d never find someone who could reach it.

“Nice to meet you, Haru.” Rin’s smile was infectious, constant, a beacon of sharp-edged teeth and wide lips that Haru found so endearing, so charming—he found himself wondering what it would feel like to have those lips pressed to his, to be able to trace the shape of them with the tip of his tongue. The thought was so surprising Haru felt a little lightheaded, wondered if he was tottering or if it was just the shock in his mind turning his world upside down at the prospect that he found someone attractive and more, that it was more than just attraction but that he wanted to _kiss_ him.

Rin was incredibly expressive, the complete opposite of Haru, with every emotion easily distinguished as it crossed over his face and quirked his lips, flitted across his shining crimson irises, pushed up pointed brows and settled in the lines at the crinkled edges of his sharp eyes. Haru found himself wondering at the conundrum of Matsuoka Rin, whose presence alone had been enough to make Haru pause in his journey towards the _ocean_ and take the time to enter the shop in hopes of getting to examine him wordlessly—wanting to understand what it was about him that had effortlessly reached out to Haru’s heart without even a glance—and who was vibrant and loud and strikingly defined but spoke blithely and had held Haru’s hand gently, like he was made of a sheet of glass, like he might shatter under Rin’s touch.

He’d had just met the guy, but looking up into eyes that were bright enough to have Haru seeing stars in the daylight and a smile that was so kind and earnest Haru could hear blood pounding in his ears, somewhere deep inside the recesses of his heart he knew that there was some truth to that, somewhere, in the future, out of their reach and still veiled to their awareness—one day Nanase Haruka would willingly shatter under Matsuoka Rin’s touch, and he knew it.

Only, his timing was just a little bit off.

Haru’s right hand tingled like it was giving off sparks.

He was already shattering.

(2)

Haru began to stop by _Forget Me Not_ every day for a few minutes before he headed to the pool for practice, just so that he could spend some time with Rin, talking and listening to the music of his laughter. Usually there were only a few people in the shop with them, while other times when Haru slipped inside Rin was busy with a line of customers and too distracted to have heard the chime signaling someone new.

It was times like these that Haru navigated to one of the corners and carefully watched Rin through several interfering flower stems and petals. Rin interacted with every customer like they were family; calling most of them by name and asking about various friends and family members he’d clearly spoken about with them some time before. He was charming and his conversation was fluid and he didn’t seem to mind when people asked him for advice, scrunching his expression up contemplatively and offering the best advice he could. He did get a little awkward and uncomfortable whenever someone expressed interest in him, clamming up and flushing—it was simultaneously the most adorable and irritating thing that Haru had ever seen.

Rin was extremely attractive. Haru had accepted it immediately, though he had spent a few days sifting through his feelings and wondering why he couldn’t stop thinking about Rin even when they were apart. He’d seen someone wearing a pair of legskins with a bright red strip down each side at practice and had immediately wondered if Rin liked swimming, if he’d wear legskins or jammers, if he’d wear red or blue. Haru could not even fathom the thought of Rin not liking the water or wanting to swim, and he knew that was partly biased, but there was also something about the way he smelled sometimes—pungent, like chlorine—that made Haru _wonder_.

Usually when Haru found someone or something of interest that didn’t involve water, it fizzled out after a few days, holding a brief stint in his mind before being erased completely for lack of significance.

He had already dreamt of Rin Matsuoka twice in the two months he’d known him. Bright colors reminded him of Rin constantly, mostly reds but also, strangely, blues. Sometimes the sun set in a certain way that turned the sky into a slow burning fire racing down the backend of the mountains, and Haru thought they burned bright and hot like Rin. So far away, too, out of his reach but burned into the backs of his eyelids, nestled somewhere in his chest around his heart with a constant thrumming to remind him of its presence.

When Makoto had invited Haru to visit his university, Haru had found himself studying the flowers along the pathways and wondering what their names were. Their _scientific_ names. He knew a few of them, Rin had been teaching him steadily, Hygrophila difformis, Prunus serrulata, Lavandula angustifolia, Prunus mume, and his favorite and by far the easiest to pronounce: Hydrangea macrophylla.

Rin was so passionate about flowers it was almost impossible not to pick things up with how often Haru was around him now. He had to know every single flower in existence, and of them he knew almost all of their scientific names. He took their care very seriously, making sure to explain to every client what kind of weather, lighting, soil, and water intake the plant or flowers needed to survive and thrive. Haru had originally thought him a little silly, though still incredibly cute, for how insistent he was in promoting the survival of each plant to every client.

But the longer Haru watched Rin interact with his flowers, the more that simple silly cuteness began to transform into something deeper, something more intimate. Something private and special—special enough that Haru found himself lying awake at night with hands crossed over his stomach actively trying to sort out his feelings and pick out the words to explain the warmth he felt whenever he saw Rin’s face when he got a new shipment, or when someone complimented one of the bouquets he had made himself. Haru’s heart had throbbed hard enough to scare him the first time he’d seen Rin handle a bouquet, his fingers wrapping around hundreds of different flowers tucked firmly together with as much care and gentleness as he did a single, delicate daisy in his hand.

Rin’s hands were strong—Haru had seen him lifting crates and setting them on shelves overhead, had seen him hauling heavy bags of soil from the ground up and onto his strong shoulder—and yet everything he touched he treated like glass, careful and meticulous and focused.

It was the way that Rin didn’t look away uncomfortably when Haru stared at him, but gazed back just as deeply—the way that he moved around Haru as gracefully as a dancer, staying close enough that his clothes grazed him and his body heat seeped into Haru’s skin and lasted—the way he placed his hand on the dip of Haru’s back when he led him towards something new that he wanted to show him, his fingers pressing gently until the fabric between his skin and Rin’s was nothing more than a hindrance—the way that Rin’s laughter would slowly quiet before he was done being amused, just so that he could tilt his head and soak in Haru’s gentle smile and gleaming eyes, an expression he was certain Haru had never shown anyone before in his life.

It was the way Rin said his name and Haru couldn’t think of anything else in the entire world but kissing his lips, whispering his name back into his mouth, a greeting and a promise and a plea.

Haru still couldn’t believe it, was still skeptical. He wasn’t ready to label it, not when every label he came up with felt wrong and less and not _enough_ even while avoiding the big one that made his ribcage feel too small for his heart. He wasn’t ready to throw that one out there, not when he wasn’t sure it was real, that he wasn’t misinterpreting his own feelings.

If this was real—and Haru was so, so certain he’d never known anything else to be as real as his feelings for Rin Matsuoka—then he wanted to get it right. He wanted to fit the last piece of the puzzle that was his unfathomable desires into place before pulling out a new puzzle for him and Rin to share. Self-discovery had been a long and bumpy road for him with much confusion and far too little explanation, leaving him a little frustrated a lot of the time.

But when he looked at Rin he felt right, and happy, in a way that he never had before. Like there was something there in Rin’s gaze that opened Haru up in a way no one had ever managed to come close to, freeing him from the cage of his own unique introversion and leading him into a plane of brightness he willingly opened his eyes to, smiling all the while.

Haru looked at Rin and saw the sun’s rays piercing the surface of the thriving ocean, creating in the depths a galaxy of transparent stars of bubbled sunlight.

He looked at Rin and felt free.

(3)

Haru had planned on being the one to ask Rin out on a date, had stayed up an entire night planning what he wanted to say and had only really come up with something short and straightforward, so maybe it was for the best that Rin took the initiative before Haru could even make his way to the corner of the shop the morning before last.

Rin had the day off, so they’d agreed to meet early at the shop and head to the pier, though Haru was hoping that they’d spend most of their time down by the water’s surface. He’d waited for only a few minutes, fidgeting with the strap of his bag with one hand and fingering the edge of his jammers just barely peeking out from underneath his shorts with the other. The day was steadily growing hotter and hotter, the sun a beacon in the center of the sky, sending down heat in as inexorable a fashion as a storm sends down rain.

When Haru heard the scuff of sneakers on the pavement he glanced up and caught sight of Rin immediately, skipping down the sidewalk with his hands behind his back and his bag smacking against his side with his lips pulled up in a big toothy grin—the one that made Haru feel shy, made him glance off to the side only to look back up through his lashes, not wanting to miss a second of that smile. It was so _raw_ , so transparent, so Rin. And Haru loved it.

“Haru!” Rin called, his eyes shining. He came close enough for Haru to reach out and touch him, and then closer still, until his arms were wrapped around Haru’s shoulders and they were pressed so close together that Rin’s hair was in Haru’s face and there was nothing aside from his fruity shampoo for Haru to smell. He was surprised, of course, but he didn’t mind it.

“Rin,” he greeted quietly, smiling as a strand of Rin’s hair got stuck on his lip.  He could feel something in Rin’s hands, now resting against his back, light and insubstantial. He wondered at it for a moment, a flicker of his eyes, before he realized that he wanted very much so to return this hug. His hands moved to reciprocate, to rest on Rin’s back almost tenderly—he was so unused to this kind of close, familiar contact—right when the redhead pulled back, hands sliding along the curve of his neck to hold on to his shoulders, something tickling the side of his neck.

“I’m so excited! And also, I uh,” Rin flushed, remembered what was in his hands and whipped one of them back behind him so quickly Haru hadn’t a chance of seeing the prize. Seeing the flush spreading across the bridge of Rin’s nose was surprising enough to Haru that he found himself tilting his head, bringing one hand up to rest it over the hand Rin still had on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like Haru initiated physical contact with almost-strangers on a daily basis, like it was something he’d never felt uncomfortable doing in his entire life. His heart gave a kick at his ribs, not exactly painful, but a pull nonetheless, and he wondered what Rin was made of that made Haru so attuned to everything he did.

“I made you something.” Rin finishes; biting his lip as he pulled his hand out from behind him to reveal a small band of pink daisies threaded together, a delicate and fragile circle in the palm of his big hand. Haru’s eyes widened with realization, glancing back up to see Rin studying his expression nervously, biting at his lower lip, as if he thought Haru might not like it. As if he thought that Haru would react to a flower bracelet with anything but muted surprise and _affection_ , as if Haru wouldn’t appreciate the time it must’ve taken him to make it—to thread the stems together a few times over so they would hold, to make sure each daisy pressed together in just the right way so that none of the delicate petals bent or broke.

Haru breathed slowly through his open mouth, eyes shining inexplicably at the gift and the knowledge that Rin had _worked_ on it, that he’d put time and effort and energy and feeling into making it just for Haru. He reached out carefully, bringing the fingers of his left hand together so that his hand was thinner, more streamline, and glanced pointedly up at Rin.

“Ah,” Rin nodded, surprised. He slipped his hand out from under Haru’s on his shoulder and picked the flower bracelet up carefully, opening it enough to slip it over Haru’s hand with the utmost care. It was loose enough to slide a little up his forearm but once he opened his hand normally, it became clear that it wouldn’t slip off. Haru reached over to it with his free hand and touched the petal of one of the daisies, softer than a cloud, a genuine but small smile on his face.

“Thank you, Rin.” He looks up and his eyes soften when he sees how flustered Rin looks, how he can’t seem to stop fidgeting, a reflection of how Haru had felt while waiting for Rin to get to him. He was scratching nervously at the back of his hair, expression veiled but beaming like sunshine through iridescent curtains, and before Haru even really had conscious awareness of what he was doing, he was reaching out with his left hand and sliding his fingertips against the palm of Rin’s right hand until their fingers laced together, palms touching. Rin flushed even brighter, stuttering slightly with his posture straightening for only a moment before he seemed to melt into Haru’s side, pressing closer but maintaining a comfortable distance between them.

Haru didn’t feel smothered or uncomfortable as he usually did when people invaded his personal space—rather, he wanted to get closer. He wanted to sidle up into the heat of Rin’s side and tuck himself away there, safe and warm and free to do as he pleases. He was so excited about the thought of getting to press close to Rin that he almost just went through with it, right then, right there. The only factor that stopped him was the realization that he’d reached out with the hand now adorned with the beautiful pink daisy chain, and he didn’t want to crush it by trying to snuggle up to Rin.

And besides, Haru thought, glancing up out of the corner of his eyes as they began to head towards the beach, Rin grinning and already looking as loose and free as he usually did—having apparently moved on from his embarrassment—they barely even knew each other. It was far too soon for them to be snuggling up to each other in public, right?

Rin walked with a skip in his step that Haru knew was natural to him. He seemed to move through the world like he was listening to a playlist only he could hear, one that was bouncy and fluid and spirited enough to keep him smiling throughout every day. Even when it rained and there were no customers coming into _Forget Me Not_ , Rin hummed and even sang to himself while working throughout the store, keeping himself busy and taking frequent breaks to stare out the rain-soaked windows, smiling up at the angry black sky.

Haru loved storms. That was probably obvious, given that with storms came rain, and rain meant water fell from the heavens down to them, a magnificent and wondrous worldly mechanism he understood in theory but still marveled at regardless. It had surprised him, however, that Rin shared his sentiment. He was just so bright and colorful that Haru had automatically assumed that he wouldn’t care for the darkness and the cold of storms, of rain.

But then he’d visited the shop, their second and last customer of the day, and found Rin standing outside the door away from the veranda, getting absolutely drenched in the downpour. Haru had scolded him, telling him that he was definitely going to get sick if he just stood out there with no jacket on, but Rin had only smirked at him, flapping a hand in the air carelessly.

“The rain is good for your soul,” he’d said happily, as if that wasn’t completely embarrassing to say out loud. Haru had felt a tinge in his chest, a warmth that radiated and heated his chilled body until he was standing next to Rin in the downpour, both of them reaching a hand out to catch raindrops in the palms of their hands, and he completely forgot about the status of his body and focused instead on the way Rin looked up into the booming black clouds overhead and smiled at them like they were a welcome delight, like they were truly healing his soul even as he stood there, motionless and shivering.

No matter how hard he tried, Haru could not put Rin Matsuoka in a box. None of the boxes Haru had ever had stored or even thought to create could fit him—he was too big, too bright, too much. Every time Haru thought he had him sealed, lock and key, he turned around and found him standing outside again, with eyes bright and shining like the birth of a brand new world, right there within Haru’s reach.

“You’ve been to the pier before, right?” Rin asked, turning to smile kindly at Haru. He nodded his head, eyes gleaming with curiosity. Rin’s grin split wide, his pointed teeth white and sharp but unthreatening, almost—cute. Definitely cute.

“Would you mind if we skipped it then? We can walk barefoot on the beach instead! It’s super hot out so the water will feel amazing.”

Haru squeezed Rin’s hand once, a reassuring pressure to accompany the pleased gleam in his dark eyes, turning them from a cool blue to two pools of blue flame. His heart fluttered happily in his chest at the prospect of getting to interact with water, and even more than that, getting to do so with Rin.

They made it to the beach in record time, though Haru would never admit that he’d been the one to pick up their pace and lead. Rin had let him, laughing jauntily but not saying a word to stop him, only following closely after him while periodically glancing down at the flowers circling his delicate wrist and feeling like his heart was blooming, opening up and laying bare its most beautiful and receptive form.

When they got close enough to the ocean to feel the spray of the waves, Haru slipped out of his shorts so quickly Rin didn’t even see it happen. One second he was in them, the next he was in a pair of sleek black jammers with purple highlights and nothing else, chest deep in the ocean with hands fanned out at his sides. He kept his left hand higher than the surface of the water, ever careful of the flowers ringed around his wrist. Rin watched him, laughing out loud at the absurdity of it all—of Haru stripping out of his clothes like it was routine—of being ditched on his own date for the ocean, of all things—of standing there by himself on the shore in leopard print pants and a pink Hawaiian shirt covered in zoo animals, laughing his head off.

Haru was wading further out into the water, greeting it like a lover, tenderly pressing his fingertips first against the surface and then through it, letting the water come up to leave salty kisses along his throat. He closed his eyes and felt the rhythm of it around his body, pushing and pulling him whichever way it pleased, and wondered if it would be okay if he just let it take him out to sea, floating and descending until he was expected back at the surface, back to reality. He tried to think about it, tried to imagine being able to breathe underwater and swim through schools of fish with metallic scales reflecting rainbows back at him, of seeing sharks and dolphins and whales and eels all slithering through the depths around him, everything sleek and shiny and beautiful in reserved shades of color.

But then the edges of his mind’s eye start to shift, to change color, the unfathomable darkness of the depths of the ocean bleeding through with scarlet, with fuchsia, with pinks and yellows and suddenly the entire ocean is the sunrise and Haru can taste sunshine on his tongue and feel it pressing through his teeth like a kiss in reverse. He smells flowers, thinks of red roses, feels the press of a gentle hand against his back and breathes _Rin_.

He turns back to the shore, eyes searching for the red hair, the bright outfit, and finds that Rin is running to him in nothing but legskins, long and lithe and black with red accents, a surprise Haru had not been expecting, shocking the breath right out of him. He watches him splash through the water, laughing all the while and splashing water up at his hair and face. When he reaches Haru, his eyes are like saucers, his soul bleeding through them like magic.

“Here,” he pants, slightly out of breath from the running and the laughing and the pure ecstasy of not _caring_ , of being free to run into the ocean as they had both apparently been planning to do regardless of date parameters—as seen by the swimsuits they’d worn under their clothes. Rin gestures for Haru to hold his left hand out, watching with brows that come down in a frown as Rin slips the bracelet off of his wrist, carefully holding it in his hands. He smiles at Haru’s reaction, shaking his head.

“I’m going to set it back with our things, so you don’t have to worry about it.” And then without waiting for Haru’s response, he’s pushing back through the water, wading up to the shore and tripping in the clumpy mud, falling to his knees but saving himself from crushing the bracelet by rolling onto his back. Haru’s eyes are wide with concern but he’s smiling, an actual smile with teeth showing and cheeks strained, he can’t help it, and then he sees Rin lift his hands into the air from his position on his back as the next wave crests and crashes over him, one hand showing a thumbs up and the other securing the flowers protectively, and Haru laughs so hard he _cries._

It seems fitting, he thinks, that he give back some salt to the ocean he takes so much from. He lets the waves wash over his face, taking away every trace of the tears, hoping that they treat the ocean as well as they had treated him for those few moments of utter joy. He watches Rin scramble up and away from the next wave, covered in muddy sand and carefully setting up a protective barrier around the flower bracelet, making sure nothing could fall atop it and it was out of the reach of the waves. Haru watched with softened eyes as he turned around and leapt through the air, excited to get back in the water—excited to get back to Haru.

He watched the ocean slosh up against him and the way that his body didn’t fight the push, but sliced right through it, practiced and easy. His skin was tan and he was as muscular as Haru had thought, more so than he’d even _dreamed_ , and he was coming towards Haru with an expression that made him nervous, in the best possible way. Haru was neck deep in the ocean, feet not even touching the sand anymore, but even still, Rin rushed at him like a tidal wave of his own and took him under the surface with a battle cry.

Haru didn’t know what to expect, really—play fighting under the water, tickling or legs wrapping around waists—he was so far out of his field of familiarity that anything was fair game. What he didn’t expect, couldn’t have even fathomed, was Rin reaching through the water to press his hands against Haru’s cheeks, to pull him closer until their foreheads pressed together and they spun with the rhythm of the undercurrent, air bubbles creating the magic of sunlight through iridescent water spheres overhead. Haru wasn’t shocked into stillness this time, moved with determination so that he wouldn’t miss his chance, bringing his hands up to cup Rin’s cheeks and pull him that single inch closer until their lips pressed together.

Haru pressed his eyes closed and Rin opened his wide, their lips sliding together once more, salty and wet and begging for oxygen. They surfaced together, Rin sputtering and Haru flinging his hair out of his face in a practiced motion. He swallowed, glanced under his lashes to see Rin hiding his face in his hands, the line of his neck a flushed pink from what Haru could see.

“Rin,” he says, loud enough to be heard over the chaos of the waves around them and the beach-goers on the shore, the birds calling out overhead and the excitement from the nearby pier. In his voice was what he could no longer hide from either of them, blatant and forthright and _real_ , all wrapped up in the single syllable of Rin’s name. Haru could feel it pulsing throughout his body, alive in his veins and bringing chills to his skin, a glorious epiphany crowned on an undeniable feeling of acceptance.

Rin pushed his hands up into his hair, carded them back and through it, smiling shyly.

“Yeah,” he responds, his voice offering up the same gift, wrapped in different letters but heartfelt and true as the ocean was vast. Haru looked up at him, caught his teary eyes and his big trembling smile and felt that last puzzle piece slide into place with a sense of satisfaction that Haru could only remember feeling when he’d first learned how to swim.

Haru turns to face Rin, his eyes widening when he sees the outline of sunshine around Rin’s body, making him appear to glow, to _shine_. He reaches out his hand above the glistening surface of the ocean, a silent plea.

Rin meets him halfway.

**Author's Note:**

> I amplified Haru's introversion and introspection in this fic because I think he's got a lot going on in his noggin' that we never really get to experience, and I was intrigued.


End file.
